


Bronze Wings and Golden Skies

by Akiko_Natsuko, TheHiddenScribe



Series: Reaper76 [53]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Running Away
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHiddenScribe/pseuds/TheHiddenScribe
Summary: It was easier to dream about seeing Dragons, and to pretend that was all he wanted. Than it was to focus on the other dream, the other wish that was always there, a quiet murmur at the back of his mind, undimmed even when no one from his family or hold had ever been taken on Search. Still, the wish remained.The hope that maybe one day he could have a Dragon of his own.





	1. Chapter 1

    Jack paused, setting the buckets that he had been carrying towards the stables on the ground for a moment and turning his gaze to the sky. The sun was only just starting to peer over the horizon, fingers of light just brushing the fields at the edge of the hold, bathing the ripening crops in soft gold. However, it wasn’t the beauty of the morning light, a sight that he got to see most mornings as his chores had him up and about before dawn, that had caught his attention. Instead, there was a chill creeping up his spine, a tingle of fear and instinctively his gaze sought out the distant shape of the Red Star pulsing high above, visible night and day this far into the Pass. _Danger._ As quickly as it had come the fear faded and he stared at the star for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the horizon, the chill becoming a tingle of excitement.

 _Thread_ _was coming._

    As though to echo his thoughts the alarms at the main hold began to ring out, spreading from small croft to craft hall and onwards and he scowled at the noise. He knew that the alarm was necessary, he knew all about the dangers about Thread, a lesson that was drilled into their heads from the moment they were old enough to understand what it meant and at the same time he hated it. He knew that he was odd, especially amongst the herders and crofters around him, who feared Thread and the threat that it posed to their lives and livelihood, and he had long since learnt to hide those thoughts, to play along, his fingers straying to the scar that ran up his arm. Yes, he had learned that lesson well. It didn’t stop him from thinking it in the privacy of his own mind, or even saying it aloud when he retreated out to play along the cliffs, chasing fire lizards and imagining that he was anything but a herder’s son…that he was a Dragon-rider, fighting thread and flying free of his family and their demands and expectations.

    He was pulled from his daydreams, from the longing that flooded him whenever he thought about life beyond their smallholding as he heard the farm coming alive around him, anxious voices raised in response to the bells and he sighed, picking up the buckets and continuing to the stables. It was only the first warning, he still had time to finish some of his chores before they would all be locked inside for the duration of the fall and yet even as he headed towards the stone building, his gaze lingered on the horizon, curiosity bubbling up. _What would it be like to see it? To be outside in a fall?_ It was something he had wondered for as long as he could remember, his curiosity only fed by the horror tales the old folk would dredge up during falls and the threadscore scars that covered old F’oran, the watch rider up at the Hold. One day…one day he would get to see it he promised himself fiercely as he stepped into the stables, whether it was from Dragon back or not, he would watch Thread fall.

    He had fed and watered all the Runner beasts and was halfway through clearing out the stables when the second warning bell rang out. He ignored it, stubbornly forking hay and dung to the side. He didn’t want to go inside. He didn’t want to feel the walls closing in around him, and being trapped inside also meant that he had to be around his siblings. Something that he tried to avoid as much as possible, especially since they had all stood by when his father had attempted to beat his ‘strangeness out of him’ the one and only time he had dared to voice his thoughts aloud. Unfortunately, his peace didn’t last long, as only moments had passed before he heard someone shouting his name from outside and he bit his lip, knowing that he would probably regret it if he didn’t answer straight away, but anger or stubbornness, or a mixture of the two made him ignore it. Scape. Shovel. Scrape. Shovel. It was hard work and boring, his back starting to ache from the effort, but it was still better than going inside.

“JACK!” Abruptly he was torn away from his work, rough hands forcing him to turn around, the pitchfork falling from his hands with the force with which he was spun, and he had no time to throw up a hand to defend himself against the blow that collided with his cheek. He didn’t cry out, even when he tasted copper on his tongue. Instead, he lifted his head, eyes glittering with defiance as he met his father’s burning gaze. There had been a time when he had admired his father when he had wanted nothing more than to follow in his footsteps and raise the Runner beasts that the Lord Holder favoured above all others. Nowadays he could barely remember those days, or maybe he just didn’t want to as it made him realise just how badly things had deteriorated between them. Especially as he took in the hard look he was receiving, and the way his father’s hand was clenched, ready to lash out again if he spoke out of turn, voice trembling with barely concealed fury. “Are you deaf boy? Get inside.”

    With his face stinging and blood in his mouth, he didn’t dare argue, but he refused to reply, carefully moving around his father and heading towards the main building without a word, trying not to pay attention to the disappointed sigh that followed him. He didn’t want to be a disappointment, he didn’t want to be the one that everyone looked at with pity and anger, but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to change, to abandon the dreams that kept him going and, so he stayed quiet and marched towards the hold. He kept his head high as he caught the looks from the others heading inside, but something bitter flooded him when his older brother caught a glimpse at him and deliberately turned away. When he had been younger, they had played together, pretending to be Dragon riders protecting the farm together, but at some point, his brother had left those dreams behind. Left him behind.

_I should just have stayed outside…_

    If he ran, no one would follow him, in fact, they would probably celebrate. But if he left now that would be it, he would have nothing but the clothes on his back and as stubborn as he was, even he knew better than to head out beyond their hold without supplies and a weapon of some kind. Still, it was a tempting thought, especially when he heard the door slamming shut behind him, the bolts sliding into place, as though there was anyone apart from him who would even consider going outside in a Fall. All around him were anxious voices, the youngsters who were on flame-throwing duty today looking nervous as they checked their equipment, seemingly blind to his envious glances…they would go out the moment the worst of the fall was over, but Jack wasn’t allowed to join them.

“Close the shutters!”

“But…” His protest died under the withering glare his mother gave him, and he willed his expression to blankness as he obediently closed the shutters, biting back another protest when she pushed him away, forcing the heavy bolt into place. Trapping him inside. Anger rose up then, and before she could put him to work, he slipped out of the room, heading for the sanctuary of the lower levels, away from the pitying gazes and angry glares. To the one place where he could hide the tears that he knew were ready to fall, the burning in his eyes making it hard to see as he broke into a run, not wanting to give them more reasons to pity him.

   It was down on this level, in the furthest room that had once been a storage room although now it was empty apart from some ancient rushes that would fall apart if you touched them, that Jack had found a sanctuary. One untouched by the rest of his family, as none of them, would venture this far down, not even his siblings when they were hunting him down to torment him. It was here that he could be himself, sinking down on the stool he had stolen months before and burying his head in his hands, finally letter the bitter tears leak down his face, completely silent even with no one to hear him.

He hated them.

He hated the hold.

He hated the four walls holding him prisoner.    

    One day. One day he would get to stand at the window and watch the battles in the sky above, or even better one day he would stand out in the open and watch as the Weyr fought Thread above them. He sniffled, wiping at the mess on his face as he finally got himself under control and lifted his head, looking skywards. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that he could see it. Dragons filling the sky, flames flooding the air around them as silvery threads rained down. It was easier to dream about that, to pretend that was all he wanted. Than it wasto focus on the other dream, the other wish that was always there, a quiet murmur at the back of his mind, undimmed even when no one from his family or hold had ever been taken on Search. Still, the wish remained.

_The hope that maybe one day he could have a Dragon of his own._

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

   Gabriel ducked out of sight as he heard voices up ahead, knowing that he wasn’t supposed to be here, and not keen to get into trouble again. He’d only just been released from pulling extra duty filling the sacks of Firestone, after his last bout of mischief, that had seen the Weyr’s herd of runnerbeasts running riot…which admittedly hadn’t been his intention, he’d been trying to leap on the back of the huge buck that no one could get near, and which every Dragon had ignored so far, after being dared to see how long he could stay astride it. He would Jesse back for that dare later, once he was no longer being watched so closely after being reamed out by both the Weyrleaders, the headwoman and his own foster-mother.

    Which was why this latest escapade was probably a bad idea, but it had been plaguing him ever since Lianth had laid her latest clutch, a respectable thirty-seven eggs, including a new Queen – and although the numbers indicated that the current pass was far from over, he was excited. Because he was finally old enough to stand on the sands when they hatched, as long as he didn’t get into more trouble, he thought remembering the dire warning he had received. However, it didn’t stop him creeping out from his hiding spot as the voices passed him without stopping, and creeping further along the tunnel, before ducking into a smaller one concealed within an alcove in the hewn rock of the Weyr wall. It was small, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fit through it once more, another sign in his mind that he was ready to impress and become a Dragon-rider.

    In places he had to snuffle along on hands and knees, sweat beginning to build upon his forehead, as the warmth from the hatching ground sands bled through the rocks around him. Every now and then he would pause to listen, knowing that Lianth would be in the grounds, and not wanting to be caught by an overprotective Queen Dragon. However, beyond a faint rumble in the distance there was nothing to indicate that anyone was aware of his presence, and eventually, he reached the gap in the rocks that opened out onto the sands.

     Peering through, he immediately spied Lianth curled up on the far side of the sands, her large form supine as she slept. Unfortunately, she was also curved around the bulk of the eggs, with her tail wrapped possessively around the Queen egg which sat separate from the others, elevated on a little heap of sand. That meant he wasn’t going to be able to get closer, not that he’d wanted to touch them, but he’d wanted to study them and see if there was some way to tell the colour, even though he knew there wasn’t. Still, he could dream, losing himself in a fantasy of bronze wings as he studied the eggs. It was a large clutch, but there was still no guarantee that he would manage to Impress, this would be Akande’s third and final time on the sands, and Gabriel bit his lip, hoping that wouldn’t happen to him.

He wanted to fly.

To see the world from the sky.

He wanted to fight thread.

And he wanted the bond, the closeness that he saw between the riders and their Dragons.

_I’m going to impress,_ he thought fiercely, hands clenching into fists at his side, staring at the eggs as though he could impress his will on them from his distance. And maybe he succeeded because Lianth stirred with a deep grumble, wings fanning out as she lifted her head and glanced across the hatching grounds, and for a terrifying moment, Gabriel thought he had been spotted, but then her gaze moved on as she made an irritable noise. Movement near her had him blanching, as her rider Ana stepped into sight, and holding his breath he immediately shuffled back into the tunnel and fled, having learnt the hard way how sharp-eyed the Weyrwoman was. Yet, anticipation still curled in the pit of his stomach as he escaped.

_I’m going to become a Dragon-rider._

****

    Jack ran fingers over his cheek, feeling the sting of the bruise that his father had given him beneath his searching fingers. In the two days since the last Thread fall, his family had barely said two words to him, beyond his mother reaming him out for avoiding helping with the chores while they were trapped inside. That was probably why he had been sent out to the outlying edge of the hold, to help clear the mess from where the ground teams had been forced to burn away a large swathe of vegetation after some thread had made it through the protective Dragon fire. It was an exhausting, filthy task that nearly everyone tried to avoid, and he had a feeling that his parents were hoping that it would help him to lose his unwelcome fascination with Thread.

It wasn’t working.

    Instead, he found himself once more awed by its destructive power as he raked the scorched vegetation into a large heap, sweating as he dashed a hand over his forehead and glanced up. It was hot out, and he could feel his skin beginning to burn, but he’d rather face that than the thought of going back to the hold at the moment. Gritting his teeth, and trying not to think about how red he was going to be later, he carried on working, pouring his frustrations into his activities.

   Unfortunately, that meant he was finished far quicker than he wanted to be, leaving him stood breathing heavily next to the cleared area, leaning on the rake as he glanced around, wondering if he could find something else to do. Before he could come up with anything he heard the Watch Dragon bugling, the sound carrying clearly across the entirety of the hold, and recognising the note of greeting in the sound after long days spent trying to memorise every noise he made Jack whirled, eyes wide as he searched the sky above him. There was a brief pause, and then there was a blast of cold air that had him shivering, even with the sun beating down on him, although it was obscured as several large bodies blocked out the light and Jack forgot to breathe for a moment.

Dragons.

   There were Dragons in the air above him, circling towards the main hold. And for a moment that was all he could focus on, wide eyes drinking in the sight of scales glistening in the sunlight, one brown and two blue, each one beautiful to his hungry gaze. Then he blinked, his stomach doing a funny flip as he realised that there was only one reason they could be here now, when they were days out from their next Thread fall, and when all the burrows had been extinguished.

Search.

    He’d heard the drums a week ago, announcing that the Weyr had a new clutch including a Queen Dragon, remembering how he’d snuggled back under the covers when the tower had gone quiet, his dreams alight once more. Yet, as much as he had dreamed about it, he had never imagined they would come here on search, and suddenly his mouth went dry as he realised how far away he was. Could the Dragons sense someone this far away? He didn’t know, his questions about search always going unanswered, or even when the Harper had tried to answer, someone would come and hustle him away before he could hear them.

    He hesitated for half a second, knowing that he would be risking his father’s wrath if he went back now, even if he had technically finished with his chores. _But this is my chance._  He knew there was a chance that they wouldn’t pick him, and that all his dreaming might just be that, but… he dropped the rake and broke into a run. He had to at least try, knowing that life within the hold would be a thousand times worse if he didn’t. If he tried and failed, maybe he would be able to move forward. But if he let this chance slide past him, he would regret it forever.

_And what if they do choose me?_

_What if I am meant to be a Dragon-rider?_

    Jack didn’t think he’d ever run as fast as he did that day, darting between startled workers as he cut through one of the fields where the crops were already being gathered. He saw one of his sisters spot him as he tore past, and he ignored her shout, not trusting them not to stop him. Instead, he was focused entirely on reaching the main hold before it was too late. He couldn’t see the Dragons from here, but he was practically quivering at the thought of being so close to so many Dragons, if nothing else came from today, at least he would have that memory.

    He was so focused on keeping one foot in the other, his tunic clinging to him now, chest heaving as he ran, that he missed the movement out of the corner of his eye. Only realising what was happening, when he was tackled to the ground. He grunted as he hit the floor hard, scraping his chin against the rocky earth and feeling something crack as his assailant landed on top of him. The pain barely registered though, as he began to try and wiggle free, head spinning slightly as he managed to push himself up on his arms and glance behind him. Heart falling when he found himself staring into blue eyes that were so similar to his own, that it hurt to see them narrowed and disapproving, although it should be a familiar sight by now as his eldest brother John moved to hold him down.

“What are you doing? Get off!” Jack fought him, trying to wiggle free, but there was too much of a size difference between them, John holding him in place easily enough. “What are you doing?” He repeated, twisting his head to look at his brother, a swooping sensation of dread in the pit of his stomach even before he saw the determined expression and the fire in his brother’s eyes that reminded him a little too much of his brother.

“Stopping you from making a fool of yourself,” John growled, and Jack tensed, hurt stealing his breath as the words registered. _Stopping me, he’s trying to stop me._ “They’d never choose you Jackie, and father would kill you if you rushed in there now.” The use of the old nickname, abandoned as they’d grown apart made the words cut even deeper because he knew that this wasn’t about protecting him or keeping him away from his father’s wrath. It was about keeping him here on the hold, keeping him in the family, and away from his dream. With a snarl he threw his head back, trying to slam it into his brother’s head, angry tears burning in his eyes as he missed, John rearing back just in time to avoid the blow.

    He was like a wild cat now, wiggling and clawing at the arms that moved to wrap around him, a sob bubbling up in his throat as his brother practically wrapped himself around him and held him in place. Refusing to let him go, or listen to his desperate pleas, and at that moment something shattered in Jack’s chest, as he realised that this was how it was always going to be. That as long as he dreamed of Dragons and Thread, and flying through skies as far from here as possible, he was never going to be accepted.  
  



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